Chapter 23
Chapter Twenty-Three
Pablo
I know tonight was like walking into battle for Flora.
If you didn’t know my family’s rightfully earned reputation, they would seem like a jolly group that eats and laughs a lot.
But if you know who we are, it probably feels like your last meal before an execution.
I can’t blame Flora for her wavering emotions.
No one faults her for her tears. She’s left behind her life to join me here.
Yeah, most of it’s because of the ongoing silent threat.
In the past week, we’ve discovered nothing.
It’s driving me up the wall. But she also left for me.
If she’d refused, I would’ve set things up to protect her in Bogotá.
We could’ve set her up anywhere in the world if she’d wanted to be anywhere else.
Her suggestion that she look at apartments hurts, but it’s what we talked about. I suspect she feels like it’s what she’s supposed to do. I won’t push her to stay with me, but I’ll show her what life can be like if this is our shared home.
“Chiquita, it looks like there’re some boxes for you on the table.”
Her brow furrows. “I didn’t order anything.”
“Are you sure they’re not yours? Take a look.”
All packages get X-rayed before they come up here.
If anything appears questionable, the boxes get opened.
I told my men in the security room downstairs that if they had any concerns, they were to set the boxes aside and let me investigate.
Under no circumstances were they to open the boxes without me.
It’s not like they don’t know what’s in there after the imaging, but I didn’t want to reseal anything or embarrass Flora by having the boxes already opened.
I thought about unpacking it all for her, but I want to see her surprise.
I’m practically ready to clap and bounce on my toes like a five-year-old going on a pony ride.
I’m afraid I’d look more like Dr. Evil from Austin Powers instead.
Flora watches me as she walks into the kitchen and grabs a knife.
She’s still watching me as she heads to the dining room table.
She examines the boxes and notices her name is the addressee.
She slices open the first one with care, unsure what might be inside and not wanting to damage anything.
I observe, and my excitement builds. I want to rush over and rip it open for her like Juan used to try on Christmas.
“?Papí, qué es esto!” Daddy, what’s this?!
“Divertido para nosotros.” Fun for us.
“I’ll say.”
She lifts out the packaging with the thigh harness vaginal spreader.
She puts that on the table and lifts out a small velvet bag, which she opens and finds a box within.
When she lifts the lid, there’s a set of onyx Ben Wa balls.
She rolls her finger over the top of one.
She hesitates and then sets it aside. She slaps the paddle against her palm before twisting to push her ass toward me.
With her mouth open in a perfect circle, she spanks herself.
“Keep your mouth like that much longer, chiquita, and you’ll unpack that box with my cock down your throat.”
She opens her mouth wider and shakes her ass.
I cross my arms and nudge my chin toward the box. She rolls her eyes and goes back to the contents, lifting them out one by one until there’s nothing left.
“You did a lot of shopping, Daddy.”
“I had some time on my way to a meeting yesterday.”
“Did you buy out an entire store?”
“It’s not that much.”
She moves on to the second box where she discovers a swing. Her smile explodes as she rips open the package. However, she stops pulling it out midway.
“This doesn’t come with a stand. It’s meant to be suspended from a hook in a load-bearing beam. We can’t use it yet.”
“Gather what you want to use tonight and go in our bedroom.”
Her brow furrows as I take the swing from her and place it back in the larger shipping box.
She scoops up everything she can like she’s in the old game show where people sweep through the supermarket and knock as much stuff off the shelf and into their cart as they can.
When she nearly drops half of it, she gives up and tosses things back into the original box.
She hoists that and hurries toward our room, looking back over her shoulder.
I’m on her heels as I laugh at her excitement.
After the stress this evening put on both of us, it’s nice to see how relaxed she is.
I know it’s because we’re alone—and the prospect of kinky ass sex—but at least she isn’t crying.
My heart ached for her when she burst into tears the first time.
I couldn’t fault her for it. It frustrated me the second time.
Not at her but at myself. I can’t fix this and make it right for her as fast as I want.
I’m a man who eats, sleeps, and breathes control. I feel useless and adrift when I don’t have it. It usually means shit’s about to go sideways. It’s one thing when it’s a business deal. That’ll piss me off. But when it’s my girlfriend’s life—I’m ready to go positively apeshit.
We both need some time to explore and play together. We set the boxes on the bed, and I point up near the floor-to-ceiling window. Her mouth drops open, and once again, my mind conjures dirty, dirty things I want to do to that pretty little mouth.
“Keep looking at me like that, and you’ll swallow my cock rather than play with our new toys.”
She licks her lips, and I pounce. I hope she doesn’t like her shirt that much.
I grab it where the buttons run down the center and yank it apart.
She squeaks as I pull it down her arms. I’m quick to unhook her bra, then I spin her around.
I grab a set of handcuffs from the box and snap them on her wrists.
“Face me.”
“Yes, Daddy.”
I fish around and find a set of nipple clamps and a light labia weight. I practically shred the packaging in my haste.
“Squeeze your tits together.”
She obeys, pushing them up in offering. I lick her right nipple, then roll it between my thumb and index finger. When it’s nice and hard, I clip the metal prongs around it. These aren’t the ones with the rubber pads. I repeat my actions on the left side.
“Tell me when to stop tightening, chiquita.”
“Yes, Daddy.”
I’m slow as I turn the little dial on each. I assess her expression and how her body reacts to the increasing pain. When she flinches, I stop. It’s just as she speaks.
“That’s enough, Papí.”
“Good girl.”
I unzip the skirt she’s wearing and push it to the floor.
I reach behind me and pull out the crop she stood up in the box.
She watches me with curiosity and then a smidge of trepidation.
She widens her feet as I run the leather flapper up the inside of her thighs.
I flick my wrist to I swat the flesh on both sides.
She sucks in a breath, but it whooshes from her when I slap her clit.
“I was going to hang the swing for us, chiquita. But you distracted me with that generous offer. On your knees.”
She obeys as I let the crop trail up her body as she lowers herself. I attach the weight to the chain between her tits. She whimpers.
“Chiquita, what’s your safe word?”
“Rios, Papí.”
“Say it if you need it.”
“I will. I promise. You haven’t done anything I don’t like. That was an ‘I want more,’ not an ‘I want less,’ sound.”
I lean forward and brush a kiss on her lips before straightening and unfastening my pants.
I kick off my shoes as I push my pants and boxer briefs down enough to free my cock.
I love that Flora’s only in her high heels and that I’m still dressed.
I stroke myself and graze her lips with the tip of my cock.
I tap her bottom lip, and she opens for me.
She curls her tongue as though it’s an invitation for my dick to rest in the valley.
It would be rude to decline.
I slide into her mouth, but before she can wrap her lips around me and suck, I fist her hair and tug back. I’m careful not to make it feel like I’ll scalp her, but it makes her immobile if she doesn’t want to hurt herself.
“Lick.”
She obeys immediately. It’s like watching her eat an ice-cream cone. She’s thorough, moving around it, not letting any part go too long without her attention.
“Suck.”
Holy fucking heaven. I think I just saw an angel.
I ease my hold on her hair as her head bobs. She closes her eyes and focuses on what she’s doing. She takes me deep, but not enough to gag. She’s silent as she works me, which I appreciate. I find intentional slurping sounds annoying and distracting.
“Can you take more, baby girl?”
She hums her answer. I’m not fucking her face, so I let her decide the pace and how deep my dick goes.
Our relationship is symbiotic.
She ultimately has control and can stop or start our dynamic.
With that control, she cedes decision-making to me, so I control our sexual interludes.
Because I have control of our sexual interludes, I can give her some control of how I want us to fuck.
It’s full circle and works for us. It’s not unlike other D/s relationships we’ve each had, but I know—for me at least—the emotions I feel for Flora far exceed any I’ve had with past partners.
“Chiquita, it’s time for you to know how good this feels.”
I sit back on the bed and inch toward the pillows before holding out my arms to her.
I help her balance since hers are still cuffed behind her back.
The trust in her eyes and eagerness to continue our roleplaying has depth I haven’t seen in past partners.
I want to believe her feelings for me are deeper and more complex than she’s had with men in her past.
I lie down after I grasp her hips. She’s quick to kick off her shoes as I lift her toward me. She straddles my hips, but I pull her closer.
“You’re going to sit on my face while I stick my tongue in your pussy. You’re going to ride it like you’re fucking my cock. You will not come until I say you can.”